Other Way Around
by RandomImagination
Summary: Molly goes to drop Ginny off at a friend from school's, and ends up having an...interesting conversation with said friend's older, muggle sister about cancer and depraved indifference and morality.


I don't dislike the Harry Potter series, overall. I do, however, hold a lot of things against it. And take that way more seriously than I should, considering it's a book series. But considering it's a very popular book series that a lot of people rave about, I think I'm justified in thinking about this so I can explain exactly what my problems with the series are. Liz is only expressing one of them, I could go on for hours.

I offered the other point of view at the bottom, just to be fair. If there's still a clear bias towards my opinion-and I know there is, I wrote it that way-well, I tried.

I also don't normally like OCs, but the Cadmans are okay. And besides, it's not like any characters from the series would be saying that.

Yes, Mrs. Weasley would probably protest more. However, she's startled by both how rude Liz is being, and what she feels are totally unwarranted ridiculous accusations. Liz doesn't give her a chance to interrupt, and when she finally stops talking... Far be it from Molly Weasley to interrupt another mother's discipline.

I don't own Harry Potter, and I'm not sure I want to.

Enjoy! And when you're done, if you could just hit that long, green button down at the bottom and tell me what you thought, that'd be great. Thanks.

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Ginny Weasley had been excited all day, much to the annoyance of her brothers. She had a play date that day—though, of course, they were at the age where they insisted it wasn't a "play date" but "hanging out"—with a friend from school. It was a muggleborn girl in her year by the name of Jessica Cadman.

Molly Weasley was in the process of dropping her off. Ginny ran ahead to the door and knocked, and it was answered by the mother of the household. There was the sound of running feet, and another girl came down, excitedly greeting Ginny. By the time Molly reached the door, the two were running off.

"Hi, I'm Laura Cadman," the women said with a smile, that, for some reason Molly couldn't quite figure out, had a slightly amused edge. Molly put it down to the antics of the girls, rather than her clothing, which it was truly aimed at.

"Molly Weasley," Molly replied, shaking the proffered hand.

"Please, come in."

"No, it's fine, really. I don't want to impose," Molly protested, but the women wouldn't hear of it.

"It's no trouble at all. Really," Laura replied, and Molly gave in, not all that reluctant.

"Come on in," Laura invited her, showing Molly into the living room. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Tea would be great," Molly answered, and was about to tell the mother she could get it herself and conjure some, but the woman was already gone.

It would've been horribly rude to make herself some tea when Laura was already making some, so Molly refrained. Laura came back a few seconds later, having set some water to boil, and they started talking.

A few minutes later, the tea kettle began to whistle, and Laura excused herself to go pour them some tea. A few seconds after she left, a girl crept downstairs and sat in the corner of the couch.

"I'm Liz," she offered.

"Molly Weasley," Molly replied with what she hoped was a comforting smile, because the poor thing looked nervous. Ginny had told her that Jessica was muggleborn, so it was possible the girl didn't have much experience with magic. If she was a muggle, at least. The girls had only finished their first year at Hogwarts, that could explain her uneasiness, and the way she kept glancing over at the kitchen.

That wasn't the reason for it, however.

"Can magic cure diseases? Like cancer?" Liz asked somewhat bluntly, looking decidedly even more uncomfortable as she did so.

"Yes, certainly. Magic can cure all types of cancer we've encountered." Maybe that explained something… "You don't have cancer, do you?" Molly asked with concern.

"No. But it _can_ cure cancer? Like leukemia and brain tumors?"

"I don't know what leukemia is, but brain tumors, yes."

"Leukemia's blood or bone marrow cancer, because bone marrow produces blood. And _all_ brain tumors? Even if they're inoperable?"

"Oh, well then yes, magic can cure leukemia. And what do you mean by 'inoperable?'"

"It'd be too dangerous to perform surgery, 'cause they're close to something vital. And, obviously, chemo isn't working on them," Liz elaborated. Molly had to try very hard to hide her disgust. That implied that they seriously opened a person's head and _cut out_ the tumors.

It was awful.

"Can you cure them?" Liz asked again. Molly wasn't sure why she was so interested. Perhaps she wanted to be a doctor?

"Yes, certainly. Is there a reason you're asking?"

Liz paused, seeming a bit…angry?

"My father died of a brain tumor two years ago, and my grandmother died of leukemia three years before that."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Molly felt terrible at asking, and dredging up old pains.

"I'd say you shouldn't apologize, because it's not your fault, except it kinda is, isn't it? Sure, maybe you didn't kill him, but none of you _helped_ him either. You're telling me that their diseases were _curable?!_ That you and all your witch friends just stood there, and let him die? You had a cure, and you _hid_ it, and they died!"

"We're not resp—" Molly tried to interrupt, but Liz just kept going, and raised her voice slightly.

"And that's not even _considering_ people who were assaulted, or in an accident, or _something_ and died of damage your spells and potions could prevent!"

Molly was speechless at the accusation. It wasn't _her_ fault that Liz's family had died. But she didn't get a chance to protest, because Liz continued, her rant gaining intensity with every word.

"How many people died that didn't have to? How many children? Little kids? Teenagers? How many adults died before their time? How many people left grieving families and friends behind, all because _you guys_ were too goddamn selfish, or scared of exposure, or whatever the hell excuse you guys tell yourselves, to—"

"**Elizabeth Grace Cadman, that is **_**enough**_**!" **Laura's voice shouted from behind her daughter, who visibly flinched. "Mrs. Weasley is a _guest_ in this house, and you will be polite!"

"They let dad die," Liz said, looking down. Molly could empathize, but it really wasn't their fault. Revealing themselves to muggles just wasn't an option.

Liz silently got up and headed back towards the stairs, but before she got there, she turned back around.

"There's a legal term for that, you know," Liz said. Her voice was very quiet, considering she was angry. Or maybe not so quiet, considering the definite bite her words had, the thinly-veiled metal spikes in her tone. "It's called 'depraved indifference.' It's when you see someone dying, and you _know_ they're going to die, and you _know_ you can save them, but you don't. 'Cause you just don't feel like it or it'd be _too inconvenient_ to _save_ their _life_.

"It's illegal. Depraved indifference is a complete and utter disregard for human life, and if you're found guilty of it, you're found guilty of second degree murder."

Liz looked at her oddly, her words just the tiniest bit challenging as she continued, "How do you sleep at night, knowing that there are innocent people who've never done any wrong, and some that have but still don't deserve to die out there, dying of diseases you can prevent? _Millions_ of people die every day, because you won't help them! How do you face yourself in the mirr—"

"**Elizabeth!** Go to your room!" Laura finally interrupted.

"I apologize for Liz's behavior. Please excuse her. Liz is still very torn up about Kevin. She didn't mean anything by it."

Clearly she had.

"Perhaps Ginny and I should go," Molly suggested.

"Oh no, you don't have to. Besides, Jessica and Ginny are having fun." It was true, you could hear them talking loudly and having from downstairs. "And Liz would never bother a child with this, no matter how angry she got."

"Very well. Still, I should probably go now. I have an appointment, and I need to leave soon." Truthfully, she didn't, but this house suddenly felt a lot less welcoming.

"Okay, if you're sure," Laura said. She didn't seem angry, certainly. Molly was pretty sure that, despite Liz's words, Laura didn't hold anything against her.

They walked to the door, and Laura held it open for her. "Just drop by when you're ready to pick Ginny up, or by eight. I'm going out with some friends, and there'll be a babysitter. Call first, if you know how. For some reason Jessica seemed to think you might not," Laura said pleasantly, though her brow was slightly furrowed in confusion, probably at how someone could not know how to use a phone.

Laura had showed her out very politely, but as Molly apparated away, she remembered the words of Liz and the look and disgust and anger on her face as she basically accused Molly and all other wizards of murdering her father, and millions of other people, by doing nothing.

They may have not been able to cure those people, but they weren't guilty of _murder_. For one thing, there were so many more muggles than wizards; the number of sick was insurmountable. They could have medi-witches working twenty-four seven and still not be able to save everyone, much less do their jobs. And as Liz had said, that wasn't even counting those dying from other causes. Wizards would die or be stuck with diseases and the aftereffects of spells if muggles demanded that of them.

Which they certainly would, if they knew about magic.

It was simply another reason muggles could never know about the wizarding world. On top of everything else.


End file.
